


The Past that Made the Future

by thepeacetea



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Angst, Bittersweet, Brucinette, Character Death, F/M, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Major character death - Freeform, MariBat, One Shot, Sequel?, maybe? - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-09
Updated: 2020-01-09
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:14:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22186162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thepeacetea/pseuds/thepeacetea
Summary: She had been his everything, and now she was gone. He was suppose to protect her. He promised he would. He promised her, and now she was gone, all because he couldn’t keep his promise. He swore he wouldn’t let anything happen to her, to the only person that was able to bring light back into his life and now she was gone. All because he couldn't protect her.
Relationships: Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug/Bruce Wayne
Comments: 21
Kudos: 226





	The Past that Made the Future

He was suppose to protect her. He promised he would. He promised her, and now she was gone, all because he couldn’t keep his promise. He swore he wouldn’t let anything happen to her, to the only person that was able to bring light back into his life and now she was gone. All because he couldn’t protect her. Because he wasn’t strong enough, or fast enough. He should have taken the bullet. If he hadn’t frozen on seeing the gun that madman had, his firecracker would still be here. She would be safe. She would still be here. But he froze, and now she was gone.

It was almost a year now. Almost a year since she was killed. Since his life spiraled out of control. Since everything came crashing down around him. As the minutes ticked on, drawing closer to the time of her death, he remembered.

11:40

The first time they met was unforgettable. He quite literally fell for her. He was running late for one of his classes at Gotham University of Art, Science and Technology. Sprinting down the stairs, his nose buried in one of his textbooks, there was no way he could have seen the small girl running up the stairs. One second, he was running down the stairs and the next, he was free falling.

Bracing himself for the collision with the unforgiving floor, he was instead met with a softer landing, promptly followed by the sound of something snapping. Sealing himself, he waited the pain to come, but five seconds past and no pain came. And then the ground shifted, groaning in pain. His eyes few open, locking on the soft ‘floor’ beneath him. To his horror, a tiny girl lay under him, face twisted in pain. The shutter of a camera snapped him out of his horrified trance. Scrabbling off the girl, his apology came out in a incoherent, jumbled mess.

“I - I am so - are you - please tell me your - I didn’t mean - I wasn’t looking and – do you need - I mean,” He tried to say, to many things pushing to the forefront of his mind and his mouth couldn’t decide what to say first. The students surrounding them could only snicker at they young Wayne’s mishap. Many of them relishing in the accident if only to have some dirt on the young heir.

“I – I think my arm’s broken.” Groaned the girl, who was gingerly trying to sit up, cradling her right arm.

Those words sent him in a bigger panic. He not only knocked a girl over, landing on her, but he also broke her arm.

“I- I’ll take you to a hospital. Do you think you can stand?” he asked, frantically searching for his keys.

“I- I think so. Do, do you have anything I could use as a sling, to support it? She asked, shift the weight of her arm slightly.

Tearing off his over shirt, he did his best to make a semi-comfortable sling for the girl. As he finished with the last knot, he glanced up, meeting her eyes for the first time, his breath catching. One of the most stunning pair of serine blue eyes stared back at him, studying him.

“Let- let’s get you to a hospital.” He managed to say, forcing the words out from the constriction in his throat.

They somehow managed to get to his Jaguar without aggravating the girls arm any farther. The ride to the hospital was tense. His mouth couldn’t seem to shut up, he couldn’t keep track of what he was saying as he tried to focus on the road and the condition of the girl beside him.

“Hey, listen. It’s ok. I don’t blame you, ok. It was an accident. It could’ve happened to anyone. But I need you to breath ok. Can’t have you passing out on me in the car.” She said, snapping him out of his panic state of mind.

“I- I fell on you, in front of the whole school! I broke your arm! How are you not mad at me?”

“One, it could have happened to anyone and if those people say otherwise, they’re jerks! Second, it’s not the first time I broke something, and knowing my track record, it will not be the last. Third, you already apologized, so you can stop, because like I said, it was an accident and I forgive you. And fourth, I think I may be able to get out of some assignments with a broken arm!” She said, laughing at the last reason.

The sound of her laughter caught him off guard. Not only was she not mad, but she was laughing it off. Just who was this girl?

“I’m Marinette by the way,” she said, almost as if she read his mind, extending her uninjured arm to shake his hand. Glancing at her for a second, he saw a friendly, welcoming smile adoring her round face as her eyes twinkled with a light that he couldn’t pinpoint.

“Bruce,” he said, reaching over to grasp her hand, slightly surprized at the strength of her grip.

“Well Bruce, I think we’re going to get along just fine.”

She had been right about that. In the six weeks she was wearing the cast, Bruce insisted that he help her. He even went so far as to sit in on some of her classes just he could help her take notes. He had never been one to warm up to anyone quickly, even when his parents were alive. But this girl, Marinette, there was something about her that drew him in.

She had always known what to say to him, even if he didn’t want to hear it. She was always there for him, and in time, he learned to stand up for himself and for others.

11:45 p.m.

“ … and I wasn’t getting any inspiration, like nothing. So I decided to climb on my roof, you know, to get a look at the stars and skyline and get some fresh air. While I was up there, looking over the city, I saw something fly through the night. I couldn’t tell what they were, and then one of them flew through the light. They were bats! And I watched them glide through the night, I suddenly go hit with this … wave of inspiration.” Marinette told him as they walked through the halls. They planned on getting lunch between their classes, and she was using their time to fill Bruce in on what had inspired her latest work. While he wasn’t … fond of the night terrors, he was impressed by his friend’s designs.

As they passed on of the chemistry labs, raised voice floated through the air, causing the duo to pause.

“ … simple freak, just do our assignments and we’ll leave you alone. Deal?”

Bruce knew that voice, Graham Alexander Towers the III. A spoiled rich brat whose family came from old money.

“Look, I’m not g-going to do your assignments anymore. I- I don’t have enough time to do my assignments.” a nervous voice countered, but it was so soft and low that Bruce almost didn’t hear it. Harsh laughter cut off whatever the other person was saying as the others cawed.

“You hear that boys, the coward thinks he has a back bone. Listen freak, unless you want to scared of turning corners, then you do it. After all, being scared is all your good at.” Towers sneered.

“And I suggest you develop a health dose of fear, cause once Pr. Adam’s finds out that you’ve not only been bullying someone else to complete your assignments but also threatening his top student, well, let’s just say that it’s not gonna be pretty.” Bruce’s voice cut through the chemistry lab, startling the occupants.

Spinning around, Graham locked eyes with Bruce, and for a few long moments, no one moved. The two heirs held each other’s gaze, Graham with ill hidden anger and Bruce with smug satisfaction.

“Wayne.” Graham spat.

“Towers,” Bruce countered politely, like they were discussing the weather. “I highly suggest that if you don’t want Pr. Adam’s to find out, then you leave him alone. If you try anything like this again, lets just say that the Towers’ name will be a little more mared then before. After all, the press will jump at the chance to do a story about how the Graham Alexander Towers the III was bullying a top student at G. A. to do his homework. It’ll be pretty and I don’t think your father will be very happy about that. I mean, he barely kept your last scandal under wraps.”

Graham considerable paled at those word. Wisely, for once, he kept his mouth shut and just stormed out, muttering curses under his breath. Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Bruce turned to the other man in the room, who was looking at him with ill concealed awe.

“You’re Crane, right?” Bruce asked.

“Yeah, yes, I’m Jonathan Crane. It’s a pleasure to meet you Mr. Wayne. Thank you for that.” Jonathan said, shaking Bruce’s hand with enthusiasm.

“Bruce is fine, and don’t mention it. I’ve seen your work. You’re a top chem. student and I would hate for you to not reach as far because of Towers. Keep up what you’re doing, cause I have a feeling you’re going to do something big someday and blow Gotham out of the water.” He said, sending the young man a smile before leaving only to run into Marinette, who he had left outside the classroom. The last thing he wanted was for her to become a target of Towers. Heaven knows that family has it out for the Wayne’s. The look she gave him made him slightly self-conscious.

“What?”

“You’re a good guy, Bruce. A really good guy. I’m proud of you.” She said before turning on her heels leading them back down the hallway, leaving a stunned and flustered Wayne behind.

When he defended Jonathan Crane, it had been an impulse decision, but that marked the beginning of a change in Bruce. He was no longer the quite boy who didn’t pay attention to others. He started standing up for others more after that. He became a force you didn’t want to cross, especially if you crossed someone he cared about. That became very evident at the first gala he took Marinette to.

11:55 p.m.

The night started out amazingly, though Marinette had been a nervous wreck on the way to the gala, but once she stepped through the doors, everything changed. She practically light up when she saw the interior of the building. High archways, pillars of black marble, gothic architecture, the place screamed beauty. Everyone was curious of the girl the Wayne heir had brought as his plus one. They all knew how closed of the boy could be, so the fact that he even had a date was a shock to the upper class. But when they saw they Asian beauty he had on his arm, they were blown away. Compared to Bruce’s 6’2” frame, the girl’s 5’6” with heels, looked so small and fragile.

The women, once they saw the girl’s dress, instantly started flocking to her, asking who designed it. The black, off the shoulder dress, had a fitted bodice with a high-low skirt, something that wasn’t common. The front ended a little above the knees, while the back spread out behind her. the inside of her skirt was a beautiful blood red, creating a stunning contrast. But what really caught everyone’s attention was the fact that if you looked at the dress, especially the skirt, it looked like a bat. Like one hanging upside down, ready to fly. The pure creativity and beauty of it was mind blowing. When they discovered that she was the designer, she had nearly half the gala coming with requests to commission her for the next gala.

It was around halfway through the party that Towers got drunk and forgot exactly who he was dealing with. He had been getting a little handsy with most of the single ladies there, and all of them rather enjoyed the attention they were receiving from the heir of one of the richest and oldest families in Gotham. But he made the mistake of putting his hands where they shouldn’t have been. On the Asian beauty Bruce brought. One second he was trying to sweet talk her into one of the side rooms to ‘get acquainted better’ and the next he was on the ground with a bloody nose.

“What the hell, Bruce!” Towers yelled, shooting the man in question a glare as he desperately tried to stop the blood dripping from his nose

“Keep. Your. Hands. To. Yourself.” Bruce growled out, not so subtle putting himself between Marinette and Towers.

“Why should I? None of the other girls seemed to mind. Besides, she should be grateful someone of importance and influence showed any interest in her.” Towers shot back, not noticing the growing rage that radiated off the young Wayne. Nor did he take stock in the glare he received as he stood, meeting it with a mocking smile as he sent the girl behind Bruce a wink.

Suddenly, Bruce grabbed Towers coat laps in a crushing grip, hauling him uncomfortable close. It was only then that he felt a twinge of fear. He had never seen Bruce angry. Ever. And by the looks of the crowd, neither had anyone else.

“Let me make this clear to you, and I’ll use simple words so you can understand. Mari doesn’t need any ‘help’ from you. She never has and never will. And if I catch you trying anything like this with my girlfriend, well, we’ll find out who the real prince of Gotham is. So let me say this one more time. Keep. Your. Hands. Off. My. Girlfriend! Do I make myself clear?” Bruce growled out, his blue eyes, which had always been soft, guarded, and compliance, were blazing with such an intensity that startled everyone. He looked like an actual Wayne, and it made the other families nervous. They knew, all too well, how much power the Wayne name carried in Gotham alone, not mentions the rest of the America or the world. If they had to describe a Wayne in one word, it would be dangerous.

All Towers could muster was a shaky nod of understanding. Even drunk, he knew better than to disagree. Stumbling when he was suddenly released, Towers watched as Bruce shot him one last look that promised retaliation if he broke his word before gently grabbing the girl’s hand muttering ‘Let’s go’. The crowd parted as he lead the two of them out, everyone watched as Bruce tucked the girl against his side, leaving a certain level of chaos and shock in his wake.

“So … girlfriend?” Marinette asked as Bruce drove them back to the manor.

Bruce could only flinch at her word. He had hoped that she hadn’t caught that part, not that she couldn’t have considering that everyone in the vicinity had heard him, but he could always hope. Glancing over at the person who he could truly call his best friend, only to find her facing the window, chin propped on her hand as she watched the city past them by. He couldn’t read her, and that scared him. He couldn’t tell what she was thinking, let alone feeling. But as the city lights flickered over her features, he couldn’t deny what he was feeling. He loved her. He was so in love with her that it hurt. She was his friend, the first real friend he could remember. She made him feel safe and cared for. He didn’t have to attempt to portray an image for her. Heck, she didn’t even care about his name. To her, he was just Bruce, the awkward boy she had met on the first day of university who happened to break her arm. She had changed him, and he couldn’t thank her enough. But that friendship, that platonic love had turned into something more for him. He wanted more. He wanted to be more with her, but he didn’t want to risk what they had. He couldn’t lose his best friend. He couldn’t …

“Because if you mean it, and I mean, really mean it, well, I wouldn’t object to it. I… I like you, Bruce. More then a friend should, and I don’t know where to go from here.” She said, cutting through Bruce’s spiraling thought.

For a moment, his brain shut down. She liked him? Marinette? The girl with the most creativity Bruce had ever seen? The girl whose culinary skills were the only one’s that made Alfred’s pale in comparison? Who always smelled of sugar and spices? Who, no matter how much she had on her plate or what she was doing, would drop everything if her friends needed help? The girl who was the only real person Bruce had ever met?

“ W-well, in that case, would … would you like to go on a date with me?” Bruce asked, stuttering over his. The seconds that followed where the longest of his life, there was no going back now.

“I would love to.”

The months that followed where the best of his life, and there was nothing he would have done differently. If he thought that he had been happy before, he had never been so wrong in his life.

11:56

It was six months after they started dating. Six month of pure bliss. Sure, they argued like any couple, but Bruce would change anything they had. Though their arguments were few and far between, every time he saw her angry, even when it was directed at him, he could help but notice how beautifully terrifying she was. She honestly reminded him of a firecracker. Beautiful when exploding but none the less deadly if not handled correctly.

They were walking around the manor grounds, simple enjoying one of the last summer day’s before classes started again. One of the things Bruce noticed since dating his firecracker was that she had an almost unusual love for nature. Every chance she could get, she would be out in the gardens or parks, simple enjoying the feeling of being outside. So they walked through the garden, with the late summer flowers in full bloom lending an enticing fragrance, Bruce couldn’t think of any other place he would rather be.

Glancing over at Marinette, Bruce couldn’t help but stare. Seeing her in the garden, surrounded by the flowers she helped plant, she never looked more beautiful. In the late afternoon sun, her hair, which had always been so dark, light up to a gorgeous midnight blue framed by the small flower crown of daisies. Her cut-off jean shorts paired with slightly oversized tee-shirt and bare feet gave her such an innocent look that Bruce couldn’t imagine living without her.

“Marry me.”

Bruce wasn’t even aware he had actually said that until Marinette turned around, her eyes blown wide in shock.

“What?”

“Marry me. Mari, I cant live without you. You brought light back into my life. I wasn’t living until I met you, I was merely surviving. You showed me life was meant to be so much more. With you, I feel like I can be somebody worthwhile. And I know that everyone will say we’re too young and that we don’t know what love is, but I know, Mari, I know that I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to have a family with you. So, will you allow me the honor of becoming your partner, your protector? Will you marry me?” He asked, gently taking her hands, laying his heart out for her to either take or turn away.

Tears sprung into the eyes, causing the serene blue to sparkle as diamonds. For a split second, he thought she was going to say no, but it was only a second before she launched herself into his arms, crying with the most beautiful smile etched on her face.

“YES!! YES!! A thousand times yes!”

She had moved into the manor a week later. Bruce loved waking up next to her. To smell of her hair and the warmth of her body. He loved the feeling of curled against him, how her head fit perfectly into his shoulder.

11:57

It had a week since he had been home and Bruce couldn’t wait to get back to his own bed and he fiancé. But instead of an excited fiancé greeting him, he was greeted with the unusual sight of empty boxes. And when he said boxes, he meant that the entire entrance was full of empty boxes. The sound of music could be heard coming from one of the upper floors. Following the sound of Summer of 69, Bruce found Marinette dancing while painting one of the many unused room. Leaning against the doorframe, Bruce just watched his firecracker for the duration of the song as she continued to dance and belt out the lyrics to her favorite song. Watching her being so carefree brought a sweet smile to his face.

“Painting?” he asked once the song finished. Whipping around, her hair smacking her in the eyes as red paint flew from her brush. She looked at him startled for a second before her face light up.

“Bruce, your home!” was his only warning before a paint covered Marinette plowed into him. Laughing, he caught her with ease while planting a sweet kiss on her disheveled hair.

“I missed you too, Mar. Though mind telling me what you’re doing and why the entrance is packed with empty boxes?” he asked, gently setting her down as he brushed hair out of her face.

“Right. I’m sorry I should have cleaned those up early, but I got distracted. I have something important to tell you. So, the night you left, I had a dream. And usually I don’t pay too much attention to my dreams but Bruce, this one was different. It, it was so real. We, well we had a family. Bruce the house was so full and it was, I mean, I -I cant really explain it. It was amazing. There was a lot of people but I could only make four out clearly. Bruce, they were our boys, and … I cant even find the words to effectively describe it. Bruce, they were amazing. One of them, I think he was the youngest, was incredibly artistic. Bruce, his drawing, his painting were breathtaking! And he was such an animal person. Another one, he was insanely smart, like almost mindboggling. His ability to see thing, little things that no one else was able to see was incredible! Oh, and the other one, I think he was the oldest, was an absolutely amazing gymnast. His acrobatics, Bruce, it was like watching a top circus performer! And the last one, he – his grasp of literature was heartwarming and beautiful. I mean, his knowledge of classical literature rivaled the professors at the university. He was also a little mechanical, a little enginery I suppose.” Marinette explained, her eyes lighting up as she described the boys.

“So that’s why there are a bunch of empty boxes and your painting rooms?” he asked, trying to understand why she was acting like she was prepping for these boys. Like they were real.

“Bruce,” she said, looking at him with one of the most serious faces he had ever seen. “I know it sounds crazy, but whenever I have dreams like this, with this much clarity and detail, they always come true. Bruce, we’re going to have a family. And I know it won’t happen for a while, but I – well I wanted to get a head start, you know. In preparing the rooms. I want them to have a place where they can indulge in their passions. A place where they can learn and grow and create. I want them to have a place of their own. A place where, when everything is too much and they feel like giving up, that they can come to, to just, be themselves. For when the pressure just gets too much and they feel like giving up. A place where they can just be who they are without anyone telling them otherwise.”

Looking down at her while she spoke, Bruce saw that she truly believe every word she was saying. And as she explained herself, he started to believe her too. While everything she was saying sounded so surreal, the certainty with which she spoke and the spark in her eyes quickly won him over.

“Mar, tell me more about them.”

That wasn’t the first or the last time Bruce was surprised with his firecracker. It seemed like every day, she would do something or say something that he had never thought of or considered. And some of them would make a larger impact then others.

11:58

“Bruce?”

“Hm?”

“What do you think of heroes?”

Looking up from his book, Bruce cast Marinette, who was sitting on the other end of the couch, a look.

“Don’t you mean vigilantes?” he asked, earning him a playful kick from his seatmate.

“Well, if you want to be technical about it,” she scoffed, sending him a mock glare. “But seriously, Bruce, what do you think of them?” she asked again as she continued to sketch.

“I never really gave it much thought. Why the sudden question?” Bruce said, watching his fiancé’s pencil stop momentarily before it resumed it’s task. It was a few seconds before she spoke again.

“France, Paris specifically, had a set of heroes when I was twelve. Coccinelle and Chat Noir, or Ladybug and Black Cat. They were tasked with fighting a madman who called himself Faucon Papillon, or Hawk Moth. He would prey on the emotionally compromised, granting them power to feed their need for revenge. And in return, he wanted them to retrieve what gave Coccinelle and Chat Noir their powers. He called it their miraculous, two pieces of jewelry: earring that belonged to Coccinelle and a ring from Chat Noir. If he had those two items, it would grant him the powers of a god. It would grant him a wish.”

“How could two pieces of jewelry do that?” He asked after a pause, searching her face.

“Well, they were magical. I know this sound crazy, but I assure you that I am not lying. The ladybug represents creation and the black cat, destruction. Two halves of a whole. A ying and yang if you will. With these two combined, one rewrite reality. These heroes were not only given the responsibly for not only defending Paris from that emotional terrorist, but also prevent him from obtain ultimate power. With every akuma, that’s what we ended up calling the controlled person, they had to fight and purify, every cure that was cast, they became symbols to us. When people saw them, they knew that we still had hope. It took nearly five years for them to track Faucon Papillon down. Before the final battle. When they defeated him, Paris breathed a sigh of relief, but we never got to thank our heroes. They just, disappeared after. So, for me, heroes are a symbol of hope. When things look the bleakest, and everything is crashing down, they are always there. Fighting for people who they will never really know. They are fighting a war they may not see the end of, but they fight on. Because they know that if they fall, hope is destroyed. So heroes, or vigilantes, have my highest respect.” She explained, occasionally glancing up from her drawing, but never stopping.

“You really think highly of them don’t you?” he asked, moving over to her side of the couch.

“I do.” She said, as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, glancing down on her sketch pad. There, laying in startling detail, was a hero design. The design, unsurprising, was incredible. The suit was designed for maximum protection and agility, as well as identity concealment. She even went so far as to start weapons designs. But what caught his attention was the symbol she chose.

“Why a bat? Don’t they symbolize death?” Bruce asked as he studied the sketch.

“Yes, but they also symbolize rebirth and protection, and in Chinese culture, they represent luck or good fortune. They are often referred to as guardians of the night, and I think that’s what Gotham needs. In a city so full of misfortune and death, they need a symbol that shows thing can be better. That the city can be rebirthed into something greater. And while that hope is there, they also will have a protector. Someone to watch over them when darkness falls. I … I think it’s the perfect symbol for Gotham.”

11:59

It was New Years Eve and the gala was in full swing. Bruce and Marinette, though they had been engaged since August, had both agreed to wait until New Years to announce the engagement. Everyone agreed that the news was an amazing way to end the decade. The news of their engagement would be made public tomorrow, but for now, they would enjoy themselves and bring in the new year together. And then, it happened.

It was five minutes until midnight when a gun fire went off. Everyone started to run, screams of fear filling the air. Then the laughter started, that crazed laugh that shot terror though everyone’s hearts. They all knew that laugh. All eyes turned towards the sound, towards the stage, landing on a familiar figure. There, standing in all his terrifying glory was the Joker.

“Is this thing on?” he asked, roughly tapping on the mic, sending a high pitch squeal though the speakers. “Well, sorry I couldn’t be here early folks, but at least I’m here before the ball drops.” He said, waving his gun hand over the crowd. “You know what I always wanted to do? What I always dreamed of doing. I always wanted to bring a new year in with a bang! And I always wanted to be the one to ring in a new century. I mean, just think about it. A new year, a new century, a new era, brought in by the Joker himself. And your little party here, is baring witness to that. I mean, you guys are going to go down in history. I mean, how crazy is that!”

“The only crazy I see in here is you.” Someone muttered, but unfortunately, they didn’t do it quiet enough.

“Oh, oh I’m not crazy. You see I only do crazy thing. People think I have this elaborate plan, this vindictive that I follow, but you see, I just like to rattle a cage, and then I sit back and watch what naturally progresses from there. I may start out with a basis of what I wanna do, I start it and then I take things as they come. That way, I’m never surprized and it’s a guarantee for me to have a laugh.”

Then, someone whispered a little too loudly, ‘Monster’, and that seemed to flip a switch, Joker went from the happy lunatic to an angry one.

“Monster? Oh, I’ll show you monster!” he shouted, swinging his gun towards the crowd, firing without glancing at the target. During his distraction, one of the security guards, one of the few who hadn’t been gassed by Joker, fired his gun, his bullet finding it mark in the madman’s shoulder. While the crowd began to breath a sigh of relief, a desperate cry tore through the building.

“Mar! No! Nonononononononono!! Please Mar, look at me. Firecracker, please.” Bruce begged, cradling his beloved’s face with one hand as he tried to apply pressure to the chest wound. Her dress, a beautiful baby blue floor length gown, was splattered with blood, the stain growing rapidly around her chest.

“B-B-Bruce?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m here. I’m here.” He whispered, tears falling freely down his face as the warmth of her blood seeped past his hand.

“I-its gonna be ok, Bruce. It’s not your fault, ok. It’s not your fault.” Marinette said, gasping for air.

“No! No, you cant say that! You can’t- I don- I can’t lose you too. Please.” Bruce said, tears blurring his vision, a lump forming in his throat.

She let go of the hand that was attempting to stop the bleed, gently cupping his face, forcing him to look at her. The feeling of her cold hand, sticky with warm, fresh blood sent a whole new wave of panic through him.

“I love you, Bruce.” His firecracker said, giving him the sweetest smile. Just as the clock struck midnight, her hand slipped from his face, leaving behind a bloody print.

It was exactly a year since that night. A year since she was gone, and nothing was the same. The manor was colder, the days bleaker. There was no light anymore. They should have been married. She should have been here with him. But she wasn’t. And here he was, alone, looking through one of her old sketch books. Trying to picture how she always stuck her tongue out when she was concentrating on a drawing. Remembering how she would light up was the image in her head began to take form on paper. Turning the page, Bruce stopped at one of the drawings, the one with the bat suit. The one of his firecracker’s ideal hero of Gotham.

~

“This is quiet something your asking Mr. Wayne. The details in this suit, well, they’re very specific.” Lucas Fox stated, looking up from the suit design the young Wayne brought in, requesting to be made, and he wasn’t joking. The instructions for the suit itself were incredibly specific. Just by looking at the diagrams and designs, they would need to be followed to the letter just to make it plausible.

“I know, and you’ll have full funding for it, but I want it exactly the same. I don’t want a thing changed. Especially the symbol.”

**Author's Note:**

> So, originally I wrote this as a oneshot, but I was contemplating about adding a sequel. Anyway, let me know what you think. Hope ya'll enjoyed! Peace!!


End file.
